Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. The spirit of disaffection was busy throughout the kingdom. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think.
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